


the consequence of impulsivity (or how hazama learned to finally hate herself)

by comradekenzie



Category: Danganronpa: Hopeful Mayhem
Genre: Afterlife, Grief, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Void AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 07:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30085884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comradekenzie/pseuds/comradekenzie
Summary: hazama dies alone, just as she was always destined to be





	the consequence of impulsivity (or how hazama learned to finally hate herself)

There’s salt in the breeze. Hazama inhales it one last time. She keeps it on her tongue, holds onto it to remember its sanctity—just one—just one more moment—

Hearing her own name ring in her ears, she finally gives into her dying body.

And unexpectedly, she’s awake.

Dead most certainly, but awake.

...

Hazama lifts her disoriented head to observe the inky blackness surrounding her. She comes to realize she’s sitting on nothing, knees propped up and spread. Her face is blank, pink eyes wide with confusion. What...

...what is this?

She unfurls from herself, shakily pushing herself to her feet. It’s all...it’s nothing. Just a stretch of void that goes on for miles and miles and miles.

Never having been a religious type, Hazama certainly never expected the afterlife to be quite like this. Her hands snake into the pockets of her plaid pants, teeth sinking into her bottom lip nervously.

And thus, she begins to walk.

“H-hello?!” the street performer is quick to frantically shout, brows furrowed and pupils wide. This can’t be it. She wanted it to be over—it’s over. It’s suppose to be over. 

“Hellloooooooo??? Hazama here!!! Y’know, Hazama Kira-Tomoharu!!! Ultimate Street Performer?!”

...nothing but the sound of her boots clattering against the nothingness beneath her responds. The dread of being alone sets in, and her pace quickens.

“U-uri?! Charlie—Charlotte!!! Remus?! Ruhig!!! Akio!!! Um—uh—J-jaime?? Valerie?!” Hazama’s voice becomes more and more strained with each name that departs from her lips. Someone ought to be here, right? Isn’t this how fiction always depicted the afterlife? 

Her chest feels horribly tight as only silence lingers, like a boulder was crushing her lungs. She can’t breathe, Hazama realizes as she suddenly stops in her tracks. She can’t breathe, just as she did in Y—

...

Lips quivering, she slowly brings her hands out in front of her, using one to carefully ghost over the other. Her skin feels like icy porcelain rather than human flesh. No—nonono—nonononono—she’s—

She’s cold. She’s dead.

“...Yurei,” Hazama then calls for the only thing she knows how to call for, feet picking up again in a desperate speedwalk. “Yurei—I don’t—I don’t wanna be here anymore—that wasn’t—nonono—this wasn’t a good idea—“

She hadn’t realized she was crying until the warmth of racing tears stung her cheeks, the salt on the tip of her tongue reminding her of everything and everyone and how she—

It’s too much, it’s all too much despite being nothing at all.

But regardless, she tries to fight the nothingness.

“Hey!!” Hazama’s voice is threatening to collapse at any moment, but she can’t stop. Not yet. “I don’t—I wanna come back!! Look, I’m—I’m answering you!! Please don’t leave me here!!”

Don’t leave you here? Her conscious, the only company she’ll ever have again, then questions. You left. You chose this. You wanted this.

“Oh no, no, no—I—I thought—“ she tries. She’s tried so hard. So, so hard. “I—I didn’t—I’m—“

It’s hell, dumbass, you’re in hell. Straight where you belong.

“I know—“ she replies, remembering how awful the contact of knife against flesh felt. “I—I didn’t—I didn’t wanna—I—“

Uri didn’t want to. Akio didn’t want to. Most certainly, the rest of them didn’t want to. Her skull feels empty, a dizziness whirling around the head she now clutches at, knotting her fingers into her bristled hair.

Hazama Kira-Tomoharu knows she was never destined to stay around for long. It’s her nature, her birthright, the only thing that has ever and will ever be consistent. 

But what’s that to a friend anyway? 

What’s the inevitability of the weight of your family suffocating you to love? 

What’s the looming shadow of a killing game to Yurei Nekutai? 

A choking girl crumples to the ground with her dampened face buried into clenched hands. It’s too late for that realization now. It’s too late to say sorry. It’s too late, way too late for everything—

...

...

...

It, despite everything, will be like this for a while. That realization will too come with time.

Oh Hazama, you lovely, lonely idiot.


End file.
